


Predictable

by zarabithia



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Of course he wants to fuck after a mission. Sure, Steph does too, but it's not stereotypical when she does it.





	Predictable

**Author's Note:**

> Canon notes: Who the fuck knows? I like and dislike every era of DC canon. Some era that includes Steph being a Robin at some point, but Jason's also off fucking Roy and Kori. That's not relevant to this fic, but it's relevant to my life interests.
> 
> Written as a prompt fill for countlessuntruths.

"You _laugh_ , Brown?"

All these years later, the growl has finally stopped being a sad imitation of Bruce's growl, and it's the kind of low verbal expression of frustration that goes straight to Steph's groin, and her knees decide to be a traitor and buckle, too; it's a good thing Damian's hands haven't let go of her ass, or she'd fall flat on it.

(And she knows from the last mission that the cave floor is a lousy place to fuck; that's probably at least half the reason her damn knees buckle. The other half being, of course, that the growl followed up a particularly long ass patrol ... and the only thing better than waffles after patrol is victory sex.)

Obvious to her predicament, Damian is looking at her expectantly. Steph rolls her eyes and responds, "Of course I laugh. Laughing at you is what I do, especially when you are so damn stereotypical."

"Stereotypical?" The growl is enough to make villains wet themselves, and oh... Steph is wetting herself, already, just not the same way.

It's a terrible pun, Steph thinks, but she used to be a Robin so it's all in the job description.

"The whole 'must bang after battle' thing you have going on," Steph clarifies. "Very stereotypical."

"As if you do not have the same 'thing' going on?" Damian scoffs. Which is a valid point, but that's irrelevant.

"It's not as much of a stereotype if I do it," Steph protests. "Grr! Argh! Angry male sexual tension needing release after battle! Grr!"

Damian's hands move from her ass, and for a moment, it's incredibly disappointing. But his hands settle on her hips, after they roughly  
push her against the passenger door of the Batmobile. "This is stereotypical, then?"

"Absolutely."

"Tt." His lips brush roughly against her neck, the tip of the cowl nipping at exposed skin, as he grinds his hips against hers. "And this?"

"100% stereotypical," Steph tries to argue, but it comes out as more of a hiss than a coherent argument. Damn flexible Bat-hips; probably a move stolen from Grayson and his damn acrobat hips.

A huff of breath against her ear as one hand roams up her hip and begins seeking out the familiar-to-him-by-now latches of her costume. "Your voice betrays you. How predictable."

"I prefer the word reliable, when we are talking about - " Gloved hands against bare skin should be illegal, because it makes Steph stumble over the very important point she is making. "-About me."

"I am stereotypical, but you are reliable?" The gloved hand feels more like a cruel taunt, and Steph can't help but wriggle against them as they move down her stomach.

"Mmmhmm."

"So reliable that you cannot even form words?" It's a taunt, which has been Damian's reliable response towards her since he was about ten years old. Eight? Something like that. Whatever, the point is he'd been a baby taunting her and now he's an adult the taunting comes with a gloved hand sliding between her legs.

She used to have better comebacks, but that destroys whatever point she might have had as retaliation. She bucks against his hand and lets out a frustrated moan. The thin piece of fabric between his hand and her skin is far too much and she internally curses her underwear. Maybe she curses them a little externally, too.

"Need something, Brown?" Damian asks and he abruptly removes his hand.

She gasps in protest at the sudden lack of contact. "Demon," she accuses, using Tim's pet name, which does in fact make Damian narrow his eyes.

"The gloves are not clean. Do you want me to fill you with filth?"

Her laugh is a little breathless, from the previous promise of Damian's hands inside of her. "Oh, yes, yes, I do. The filthiest. But keep the gloves on. I'll eat a whole bowl of cranberries and yogurt later."

"No. They may have blood on them, Brown. I will not have to risk my grandfather's wrath to use his worthless pit simply because you have a fetish for Batman's costume."

"Spoilsport."

He shakes his head and tsks at her. "The rest of the costume, I suppose? Even the cowl?"

"Especially the cowl."

"Stereotypical," he chides, but two gloved hands firmly pull on the side of her underwear.

This time when she laughs, he is to busy sinking to his knees in front of her to growl. But that's okay, there will be plenty of time for growling later.

~


End file.
